“Well, I think you are doing really well, Lady Agnes. He’s only ever so agreeable with the Duke, and to see him following you this well is quite refreshing and fun.”
She smiled at the boy and gently patted his head. “Thank you, Simon. I am glad you think so.”
Mr. Bennett was waiting to check on her as usual, and she was happy to report that she had not sustained any injuries after the day’s session.
“Are you certain? No aches or sprains?” he pressed gently.
“None today. Yesterday’s sprain in my wrist seems to be feeling much better now, and I was able to lead Scar through all his turns. Luckily, I was very careful today.”
“Well done, my lady,” he nodded in approval, rising with his bag in hand. “I will see you tomorrow then. Good evening.”
She bid him farewell and returned to the mansion, smiling when she noticed Ella and Beatrice waiting for her. Ella had taken quite a shine to Beatrice and had grown attached to her, following her around and asking her questions whenever she was free. Sometimes, that meant she was also around Agnes when she was not working with Scar, and she found the girl’s presence refreshing.
Beatrice seemed caught off-guard by the sudden attention, unsure of what to do with it, but not refusing any of it, allowingElla to attach herself to her as much as she wished, as long as it did not interfere with her duties.
“Perhaps she sees you as an elder sister she always wished for but never had. Mrs. Safield did say she was an only child,” Agnes had pointed out one evening as Beatrice recounted the moments she had spent with the maid earlier.
“She certainly feels like my younger sister with how much she worries me. She is wonderful, hard-working, and bright, but she can be so clumsy sometimes. She walked into another maid today and caused the poor girl to drop the basket of clean laundry. When I found them, they were both seated on the floor, nearly in tears over the issue,” Beatrice sighed.
It was adorable to Agnes how Beatrice was committed to doing her best to look after Ella despite her complaints. It made her wonder even more about her own sisters if they were doing well and not giving too much trouble to their guardians. She prayed Prudence was not too stubborn and relented more than argued with their great-grandmother – who was known to be a stubborn woman as well, in her own right. And she hoped to God Imogen remembered that Agnes had told her that not everyone shared or understood her bubbly and energetic disposition and tried to give her house some peace and quiet now and again.
Beatrice had drawn her a bath, and while she cleaned up, she asked her how things were going with Scar.
“Quite well, actually. He faltered on his last jump today, but that’s fine. I think he just needs some more time to get used to the act so he can feel confident as he does it.”
Beatrice nodded. “That is good. You have always been good with horses, and I’m glad that you get to spend as much time as you want with one so talented.” She paused slightly as though reconsidering her words before she asked, “And you? How are you doing?”
Agnes understood what she was asking. How are you faring without the Duke’s attention? Are you fine with the fact that he has chosen to ignore your very existence?
And she wished she did not care. But she did. As annoying as the whole situation was and as much as she would have rather ignored it all, she was upset over it. She felt oddly used – because she was dealing withhishorse, giving all her energy and free time that she was not spending to plantheirwedding to train said horse, and he had not summoned her once to ask how things were going.
He was not crossing paths with her within the mansion or eating any meals with her, and it made her feel strongly disliked.
Is this what will become of us when we are married?She wondered in dismay. They had different goals and a common means of getting what they wanted, and she did not see why they could not just work out some sort of partnership that would provide them with ease, both now and later in the future.
She refused to show weakness over him and how he wished to treat her. If he was quite intent on doing what pleased him to the end, then she would endure it quietly until she had reunited with her sisters. So she looked up at Beatrice and put on a smile that was more for her maid’s benefit than herself and said,
“I am absolutely peachy. I am doing quite fine, and I hope things continue to be as peaceful as they are now.”
Beatrice gave her a look of mild disbelief but did not challenge Agnes’ response, merely nodding slowly.
“If you say so. Now, which dress would you like to wear for dinner?”
Dinner had become something of a chore for Agnes. Her godmother and the Dowager Duchess spent all their time together, reconnecting and relieving their youth, and they often visited a women’s club in the evenings, and without the Duke, she was left to eat by herself.
Every evening, she would ask if he would be joining her, and every evening, the answer would be the same. She knew that if she asked, Lady Anna would invite her to go along with them, or they might even stay with her, but she did not want to resort to such childishness, and so she stiffened her upper lip and did what she could to make the ordeal better.
And her solution lay in the wonderful libraries in the mansion. There were so many books she had read, so many she had heard of but had not gotten a chance to read, and she found that therewas no better time to indulge in them than at a meal where there was no one to make conversation with.
So, she began to take one with her to dinner, gaze firmly stuck on the pages as she ate, and when she was done, she could continue it in her room. It wasn’t a perfect means of dealing with it, but it was enough for now.
And that was what mattered.
Silas walked down the hallway, contemplating taking a stroll later or going riding, his feet coming to a stop in front of the door of the dining room. The door was slightly open, and through the crack, he could see Agnes, her head bent over a book as her glass of wine was being refilled, lifting a forkful of roasted pork to her lips.
She looked… complacent in that moment, and it made his heart ache.
In a perfect world, perhaps they would have been good friends. The type who would argue far too much but still fiercely loyal to each other, with their differences reflected as strengths in the relationship rather than weaknesses. And he would have loved that, to be friends with her. Agnes’ strong will was something he admired, and it would have been nice to have that characteristic not fighting against him all the time.